


This Thing Between Us

by taecheeks



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: M/M, Pining, Sense8 AU, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 12:37:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10921947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taecheeks/pseuds/taecheeks
Summary: “Some of my questions are what is this feeling and why is it so much… more than anything I've ever felt with Jade? Why does my heart do the thing every time I am around you, the man in my head?”Or, the one where Zayn and Liam are sensates.





	This Thing Between Us

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! This was intended to be a drabble, but it was a little longer so I thought I would post it here. I had written a sense8 drabble a long time ago and wanted to write some ziam, so I thought I would go off of that.
> 
> All of Zayn and Liam's sensates are based off the characters from the show with some differences. Z/L are based loosely on Wolfgang/Kala because I am in love with them. There is a line from the show that I take no credit for but I thought it fit and I am IN LOVE with it. ("Do you do everything so intensely? Only the things that matter".)

He can’t get used to the feeling though, he isn’t sure it is a feeling one _can_ get used to. The sharing of minds, bodies, the sudden appearance of people that live thousands of miles away. Zayn tries not to think about it too hard, because then his mind hurts with confusion and questions that no one in his cluster has the answers to. And he tries not to think too much about it because everytime he thinks about his cluster, he thinks about Liam.

And every time he thinks about Liam, Liam is suddenly there.

Not that Zayn doesn’t want to see Liam, he just hates how his backstabbing body starts sweating and his chest thumps too heavily in his chest. He has no idea if Liam can feel it or not, but he knows he can feel when Liam is nervous or scared. And look of boredom he has worked hard to achieve can’t win over whatever it is that causes the two of them and the other six people in their cluster to feel each other.

Zayn stares at Ned across from him, wishing he could tell his best mate about it. He can’t find the words to even begin. ‘ _My mind is connected to seven other people, long story but I have the hots for this one bloke in the States_ _and he is here right now_.’

Zayn stills with his drink half lifted to his lips. Liam looks as he always does, a little lost for a moment before his eyes swipe over Zayn. His skin is flushed and glistening with sweat. Or no, maybe with water. He can’t tell, and it doesn't seem to matter the moment his eyes rake over the bare of his torso. He has seen the ink on the back of Liam’s hands and crawling up his forearms, but he is a bit surprised to see how it continues all the way to his shoulders.

Liam lifts a hand, fingers wiggling in a quick wave before he cups them over the back of his neck. “Hey.”

Zayn nudges a chin towards him and suddenly he finds himself standing in a locker room. He can smell the body odor and the cologne, he can feel the cool of the metal lockers against his back. It feels all so real, and a bit dizzying sometimes being in two places at once. He is still learning how to talk to Liam where Liam is without talking to himself where he is. But with Ned there, he can't take any chances.

He gets up from where he sits in the back sectioned off part of the bar they are in in London and walks through the crowd while he walks past the lockers. Liam doesn't look away from him as he follows, his face shadowed by the dark lights of the bar and glowing from the too bright of lights in the American locker room.

“Celebrating?” Liam finally asks as he indicates the busy bar around them.

“Ned’s birthday,” Zayn says as he pushes open the bar’s bathroom door. The graffitied walls and the messy floor is a sharp contrast to the sparkling checkered tiles and bare walls of the locker room’s showers.

“Happy birthday Ned.”

The softness of Liam’s voice makes a breath stick in Zayn’s throat but he doesn't show it until he feels the rough pad of Liam’s thumb over his cheek.

It is all in his head, but it feels so _real_.

Zayn catches Liam’s hand to drag his own thumb over the scarred knuckles and the gold metal he knows is wrapped around his finger. “Shouldn't you be getting ready for your celebration? Not at the gym for the what? Second time today?”

Liam's soft smile shifts into something uncomfortable as he pulls his hand away. Zayn doesn't let go, but lets his fingers rest over the faint pulse on the underside of Liam’s wrist. _Real_.

“Er, called it off. Um, the engagement.”

This time the breath doesn't stick in his throat but pulls out of his lungs and threatens to flood over Liam’s face, only a few inches away from his own.

Zayn rests his back against the edge of the chipped broken sink and soaks in the warm moisture leftover on the wall from a hot shower. He keeps hold of Liam, wanting him to move closer if he wants to.

“Why are you wearing the ring then?”

Liam flexes his hand suddenly, until his fingers are slipping over the inside of Zayn’s palm. It tickles, but he can feel the way Liam’s fingertips feel against his skin at the same time and it is overwhelming. A feeling he has never felt before, and never wants to stop feeling.

“I need to figure out all the answers to my own questions before I start having to answer others’ questions.”

“What questions do you have?”

Liam slips his fingers in the spaces between Zayn’s and Zayn squeezes because he feels that Liam needs it.

“Don't you have questions?”

Zayn quirks a brow. “Doesn't everyone have questions?”

Liam pulls his hand away and stares at it for a long moment like he is trying to convince himself this is all real like Zayn does.

“I am standing in a bar in London,” Liam starts slowly, “I have never been to London.”

“You should visit some time.”

Liam lifts his eyes finally and Zayn is pleased to see the sparkle in his dark brown eyes even though his lips attempt to fight off his smile. “I have know Jade for a long time, and you a short time.”

A sound shatters Liam’s pause between words, dragging their attention away from each other. It takes Zayn a moment to realize it is coming from his side before the bathroom door shoves open.

Liam moves away from Zayn as the drunken man stumbles between them. “Some of my questions are what is this feeling and why is it so much… _more_ than anything I've ever felt with Jade? Why does my heart do the thing every time I am around you, the man in my head?”

Zayn pushes away from the sink, uncaring about their company. But Liam is gone before he can take a step forward and suddenly he is only in London, wondering what the hell the _thing_ is.

+*

Liam aches from his head to his toe. Every movement, even the smallest of movements like gripping a pen, shoots pain through his muscles. He had over done it at the gym, so much so that he had needed help from one of the people in his head to keep his legs moving long enough to turn the treadmill off.

Working out helps him clear his mind because he can focus on each step, each curl up, his breathing and heart rate but the ache that follows reminds him of the ache of confusion he is trying to escape in the first place.

“All that stress and coffee isn’t good for you.”

Liam jolts from where he sits in his office chair, face in his hands. Papers fly from his desk and scatter on the floor, even the ones that are underneath where Elena sits on the edge.

Elena, the one that helped him keep his legs moving at the gym. She pops up the most other than Zayn, usually because she runs almost as much as he does. But he runs to exercise, and she is always running _from_ something.

Liam looks pointedly at the cigarette between her fingers. He can feel the cooler, damper air that surrounds her where she sits on the balcony outside of her apartment in Berlin, Germany. He can taste the smoke she inhales.

“If you inhale that cigarette smoke, is it affecting my body too?”

Elena grins and flicks the cigarette off of the balcony and onto his office floor. “I think it is only senses we share. Taste, sight, touch, smell, hearing. The works.”

Liam slumps into his chair, watching the way she twirls her long, dark brown hair around a finger. He can feel the silkiness of it on his own. He can feel that there is something bothering her, even if nothing about her shows it.

None of this makes senses, and he hasn’t been having the greatest time taking it all in. Some of the people in his head seem to not question it too much; they seem to just accept the presence of someone randomly appearing from thousands of miles away and feeling everything they feel. But Liam can’t.

And it doesn’t help that while he is dealing with all of this homo sensorium shit, he is dealing with this thing that happens every time he pops over in London.

“You’re clearly not affected by all of the garbage Zayn eats. So I’m sure you’re alright.”

A grin tugs at Liam’s mouth. He wonders if she visits Zayn a lot. If the others do. And how often. Suddenly his chest feels too tight, like he has actually inhaled the cigarette smoke.

“Zayn doesn’t seem to be affected by all of the garbage he eats either,” Liam says quietly. He shifts from his chair, wanting to distract himself from thinking too much about Zayn with picking up his scattered papers.

Every time he thinks about Zayn, Zayn appears. Not that he minds, just the _thing_. His heart beats too quickly and floods his face until it is bright red. He shakes, though he isn’t sure how noticeable it is. But even if it isn’t noticeable, Zayn might be able to feel the fact that Liam feels like he is being flipped onto his head (in a good way) every time Zayn is near.

“ _Elena! Na los!_ ”

Elena pushes up from where she sits without responding to the voice calling her from inside of her apartment. But the sudden appearance of him makes whatever bad feeling she has intensify.  “Find a way to relax. You’re a pharmacist, ya? You should find something there.”

Liam doesn’t bother telling her he is a chemist not a pharmacist as he watches her walk back into her apartment.

“Don’t let her corrupt you.”

An exaggerated sigh rocks through Liam as Elena disappears but Griff appears only feet from where she had been standing. He is always an intense presence, jaw tightened and a seriousness in his eyes that makes Liam feel alarmed even though he doesn’t know what he should be alarmed about.

Griff is at home, pacing around his apartment slowly. Chicago. It is closer to home than Berlin is, at least.

“Maybe I can get something for you too,” Liam retorts, gesturing to his pacing.

A lazy grin slides over Griff’s lips as he shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. He stops pacing, but stares out his bedroom window solemnly. “Jonas told me about these blockers that sensates use, it stops um, all of this.” Griff waves a hand between the two of them. “Could stop Whispers from contacting us if we do make eye contact.”

_Whispers_. Just the name makes Liam consider stealing something from work to relax. His heart instantly starts racing. The way it does with Zayn, but worse. A lot worse. He doesn’t know what the guy looks like, but he has nightmares of him. If he listed all of his problems, Whispers would be at the top of it even if he has never met the man.

“Are you expecting to make eye contact with him?”

Griff’s grin slips away just as quickly as it appeared but he looks away from Liam as another presence joins them. Suddenly Liam is in his office, Griff’s apartment and fucking Ned’s apartment.

Zayn is always there, even if Ned isn’t. He has wondered before if they share the only bed in the apartment even though he normally finds Zayn on the ratty couch covered in mounds of blankets and socks. It shouldn’t matter, it shouldn’t.

Thin fingers slip over the back of his neck before they are digging in to the thin skin over his pulse. The look in Zayn’s eyes is just as intense as the one in Griff’s, but Liam doesn’t feel panicked by it. It is comforting and warm like one of those specially made heavy blankets used to calm the nerves.

After a moment of Liam trying to convince himself not to act on the thing in his chest, Zayn drops his hand and frowns at him. “You popped up with this panicked look on your face and you’re just in your office. Where’s the danger?”

“Were you worried about me?”

Zayn’s face hardens even more and he turns to Griff with his arms crossed over his chest. “Go on about Whispers. Have we located him?”

Liam slides the stack of papers he has collected back onto his desk but he doesn’t sit down. Outside of his office is quiet, as technically he should have gone home an hour ago, but his apartment seemed too empty since Jade had moved out and he seems to avoid it as of late.

It is strange, how he knows when Zayn and him are alone and when they are alone with Griff. It happens at the same time, and it should be dizzying, but it isn’t when he feels Zayn’s hand slide under his chin. That intense look in his eyes is back, locked onto his face, and at the same time locked onto where Griff is speaking to him.

Liam is everywhere, in all these different places at one time, and he just wants to be in one. Locked under Zayn’s gaze.

Liam watches as his tiny office fills with the people in his head. He visits Nairobi, Seoul, Mexico City, Mumbai, Chicago, and sinks into a ratty old couch in London. Liam stays quiet, watching it all happen, watching Zayn.

The way his jaw tenses, the dark of his eyes flicking from one to another, the dance of muscle in his neck and back. The _tap tap tap_ of his fingers against the bulge of his arms, the way his lips wrap around the end of cigarette after cigarette in Ned’s apartment.

And then they are all gone, and Liam feels like he has ran a marathon as he slumps back into his desk chair, body aching again. He tries to focus on the lingering feel of Zayn’s fingers on the inside of his thigh before he had disappeared. A reassuring touch that everything was okay, but the look in his eyes when he had done it makes it feel like something much more than just that.

+*

Zayn likes being at Ned’s apartment, because it is less empty than his own. It is Zayn’s fault, probably, since he hasn’t put up any decorations and he hasn’t bought that much furniture. He doesn’t see the point of decoration nor having a lot of furniture if only one person lives there. But he likes Ned’s apartment for those reasons. It looks lived in more than his own.

He likes being in the back of the pub too, even if he sips slowly at one drink all night. He likes the crowd and the music and being surrounded by it all. He doesn’t care if he sits quietly to himself listening to Ned chat up some girl, or if he is part of the conversation too.

He just likes being surrounded by life.

Especially when his mind is busy with Whispers and blockers, the fact that there are people out there just like him. Thousands of people and clusters and he never knew about it until now.

Normally he never cares about other people’s problems because he has too many of his own to worry about, but he finds himself worried about a girl in Mexico City because of her obsession with hacking computers and saying _fuck off_ to the law. He gets angry when her mother calls Yesenia by her birth name, and refuses to speak to the girl that Yesenia loves with a force that Zayn has never felt before.

He worries about Asha in Nairobi because all she does is good but there is always a target on her back. He hates how dry her mouth is and that she will offer the little water she has to someone else before taking the sip herself. His heart aches every time he slides his fingers over her mother’s hot forehead. He feels the way he feels about his own sisters every time he looks at her. Protective. And he kind of hates that too because he doesn’t quite get the relationship between the sensates enough to trust that he will be able to protect her always.

And Seung in Seoul, who sits in a prison cell all day and night with a mind busier than his own. Who listens to silence all day, only interrupted by the heavy thump of guard’s boots and barely talks to any of them when they visit. He only ever asks them to stay, and Zayn understands, because he had always hated being alone.

Zayn can be alone now though, anywhere and anytime, while still being surrounded by so much life and he is worried about all of it.

“What’s on your mind, love?”

Soft fingers slide across the stubble on his jaw. Too soft of fingers, but he still hopes to see Liam’s face there even though the voice is wrong and Liam never touches him.

It isn’t Liam, and Zayn takes another sip of his drink. He isn’t good with time zones, and he isn’t quite sure what time it is where Liam is. Sometimes at night it is light there, and sometimes it is light at the same time. He doesn't know if he is at work or at the gym or hanging out with the girls he is always with. Platonic, he thinks, but he can't help the flare of jealousy.

Liam gets flustered when they flirt. His cheeks get fidgety and he seems at a loss for words. He is the same with Zayn, sometimes, but he doesn’t push Zayn’s hand away like he does with those girls so Zayn takes it as a good sign.  

“Life,” Zayn tells the woman as he places the cup back on the table. He turns and she doesn’t hesitate to stand between the spread of his legs. She is pretty with hair that reminds him of Elena, long and dark, and the same, always half confident half flirty smile that Kiran wears.

“Want a dance? Forget about life?”

The girl’s hand slips down his throat, over his pulse. The sensates are always on his mind, but he swears there is a constant repeat of _Liam, Liam, Liam_ in the back of his brain.

“Alright love,” Zayn says, slipping a hand over her waist. It is stronger than expected, thicker than it had appeared a moment ago.

The sky is still light in America, but the cooler air signals nightfall is coming. Zayn smells something sweet like chocolate cooking in the small kitchen, and under the thump of techno music playing at the bar, he can hear the beat of some pop song on the radio.

Soft hands curl around his neck and a thin body presses up against his front, but the strong hands on his neck and the heavier, wider body against him takes most of his attention. He smells perfume and cologne, sweat and the clean scent of soap.

There is a gasp against his lips that tastes like chocolate and alcohol. He doesn’t know which song he is moving his body to, the one in the bar or the one in Liam’s kitchen.

Liam and him don’t move in the kitchen, they stand with their foreheads pressed together and Liam trapped against the kitchen counter. In the bar, Liam’s eyes are hesitant and his bottom lip is starting to purple with how hard he bites into it, but his fingers aren’t hesitant where they rub over Zayn’s neck and his body definitely isn’t hesitant in the way it moves against his.

“I’m making chocolate cake.”

Zayn huffs out a laugh at the sudden sound of Liam’s voice. He didn’t mean to press against Liam like this, but he isn’t pushing away so he isn’t going to bring it up. “Proud of you.”

“It’s low carb.”

Zayn wrinkles his nose. He wants to smush it against Liam’s, but he doesn’t. It is getting harder and harder to keep his bored face up around him. The smile on Liam’s lips feels contagious, and Zayn tries to convince himself he is only smiling because they are connected.

“I don’t think it is really considered a low carb snack if you eat the whole thing.”

“Who is going to stop me?” Liam giggles as his fingers press harder into his neck.

Zayn isn’t touching every part of Liam, but it is difficult to figure out where he starts and Liam ends. He is pressed close to Liam, staring down at the ruddy red mouth in a club and in a kitchen, and he is Liam, gazing at the flutter of thick eyelashes so close to his own.

Zayn grips Liam’s chin gently to slide his nail over the thick coating of hair there. He has let it grow since he has called off the engagement, and Zayn might be in love with it. “Li.”

A timer goes off as the taste of lipstick breathes over his tongue. Liam jumps from the sound and he coils back at the taste, suddenly aware of who he is actually dancing with in the bar.

Liam disappears and he is left with a craving for chocolate and a girl whose name he forgot staring at him with an offended look on her face.

“Sorry,” Zayn grumbles, letting go of where he still grips her hip. “Forgot I uh. Ned.”

The girl’s offended look worsens but Zayn doesn’t care as he makes his way back through the crowd to where Ned is sitting. He can’t stop thinking about whether or not he was standing in someone’s place the way Liam had been standing in her’s.

“Let’s go,” Zayn says over his shoulder as he pushes a hand gently against Ned’s head for his attention.

He feels as if he has been drugged, completely overdosed on Liam.

+*

Liam is fucking hot, and it is not because of the oven heating up his small apartment. Sweat tickles down his neck, even though he has barely moved where he rests against the counter.

He can feel Zayn’s touch and the softest press of his lips against his own. Zayn isn’t there with him any longer, but the touch lingers from minutes before when he was.

“Fuck,” Liam grumbles as he sticks his finger into the cooling cake and pulls some into his mouth. He forgot to buy fricking frosting on top of everything.

When it is cool enough that it won’t crumble apart, he grabs the plate and shuffles through the hallway to his bedroom. All of the lights are on and the tv plays loudly. It makes it feel less empty, especially since he had practically bought out a furniture store to fill up his apartment to make it more cozy and lived in looking. He is even thinking about getting a dog or five.

Liam’s body grows hotter, his breathing heavier. This is the worst part about being in the cluster, because no one from his cluster is around him yet he feels them all the same. He thinks at least, that is why red is creeping up his arms so suddenly and not because he had just had his body stitched to Zayn and he can’t stop thinking about it. He had felt ridiculous at first, dancing around his apartment alone while waiting for his cake, but it had been worth it when Zayn was suddenly dancing beside him.

Zayn looks hard, but he is soft to the touch. Slightly smaller than Liam, but pressed up against him, Liam had felt surrounded by Zayn.

Liam grins, half amused and half uncomfortable, as he pushes his back against his bedroom door. Arousal curls in the low of his belly, and it is a better feeling than a constant state of worry, but embarrassing if he is feeling someone else’s arousal as his own.

A moan bubbles in Liam’s throat as his dick twitches under his briefs and he contemplates saving the cake for a post-jerk snack until he turns around.

Liam freezes, his whole body going still as he sees the wet, bare back covered in tattoos. An equally covered arm presses against his wall for support. Muscles flex in his shoulders as water slides down his bare body and onto Liam’s carpet. His legs are parted, knees slightly bent and toes digging into the carpet.

A small whimper sounds loud against the tiled walls, even loud under the thrum of the shower head. The arousal in Liam’s belly worsens because of it, and the way the muscle in Zayn’s butt cheek flexes when his hips fuck into the hand Liam can’t see.

“Oh, oh my god,” Liam yelps, pulling open Zayn’s shower door as he pulls open his bedroom door. He doesn’t hear a reaction as he tries to remember how to stop visiting a sensate, but a moment later the shower turns off and he hears the slap of wet feet on the bathroom floor.

“Were you working out again because you felt guilty about the cake?” Zayn asks, suddenly behind him. His voice is hoarse and deep, melting over Liam’s skin, lips only a few inches away from his ear. He might as well whispered ‘ _fuck me_ ’ in his ear the way Liam’s body reacts.

Liam turns to face him, eyes up and focused on his face even though Zayn’s hands move like he is wrapping a towel around his waist. He shoves the plate of cake into Zayn’s bare, ink covered chest.

Zayn wears a grin that makes Liam’s heart try to break his sternum as he stares down between them. Embarrassment rushes through Liam because he is wearing sweatpants and Zayn can probably see how hard he is. “You didn’t even eat it yet? Is your diet healthy or concerning?”

Liam searches Zayn’s face, wondering if they are going to talk about the fact that he just walked in on Zayn whacking off. But they hadn't talked about how one moment Liam was waiting for a cake to finish and the next he was grinding up against Zayn in London either. “Do you want some?”

Zayn huffs out a laugh and doesn’t hesitate to pinch off a piece of cake for himself despite the fact Liam has a fork balancing on top of the cake.

He wonders if it is purposefully done the way Zayn slowly wraps his lips around his own fingers to eat the chocolate. The bathroom air is hot and damp, heavy against Liam’s skin, and he wishes he had left a window open in his bedroom because he feels even hotter suddenly. Like he is standing in front of the sun.

(Which, might be more accurate than Liam would like to admit. Because it sounds cheesy but his heart skips a beat at the thought as if to agree with him.)

“S’good for that healthy shit,” Zayn mumbles before his tongue rolls over his bottom lip. He pinches another piece of cake, and Liam’s lips part like he knows what Zayn’s fingers are going to do.

Zayn presses the pinch of cake between Liam’s lips, and Liam swears it tastes ten times better than it had between his own fingers.

“Do you feel them?” Zayn whispers, eyes dropping to Liam’s lips. He hasn’t pulled his hand away yet, but rubs a thumb over Liam’s bottom lip. His eyelashes are thick and dark, fluttering against his cheekbones like the whisper of a kiss Zayn had pressed to his lips earlier.

Liam is about to ask what he means when he feels the arousal build in his belly. There is a feel of fingers, both gentle and rough, sliding over his body, hot mouths and angry teeth pressing against his neck. A tongue tickling in the inside of his thigh, arousal expanding through his body like he is on the edge of a climax.

“Yes,” Liam whispers, hoping it sounds more casual than the desperate way he thought it sounded. A shudder dips down his spine and Zayn is pressing more chocolate into his mouth, fingers lingering too long against his tongue until Liam gets the hint and wraps his lips around Zayn’s fingers.

“It is like chocolate is literally giving you an orgasm.”

Liam can’t help the laugh that rips from his throat, making him choke slightly on the cake he was swallowing. Zayn takes the plate from him and thumps him on his back.

“It felt like I just had like three,” Liam chokes out, feeling the aftermaths of pleasure working through his body despite the fact that his own dick throbs against his sweatpants. He is there with the others, all bare skin and heavy breathing, but he tries his hardest to stay  here with Zayn and let the other sensates have their privacy.  

“It was almost four,” Zayn tells him lowly with mischief in his voice. He cups a hand against the side of Liam’s throat and Liam falls suddenly still again.

It feels slow, like time has stopped, the way Zayn backs him against the damp bathroom wall. The way his lips hover over his and the million times Zayn rolls a tongue over his own bottom lip. Liam doesn’t know where to touch, so he doesn’t at first, until he considers Zayn might take that as a sign to move away.

Liam reaches out, touching the soft towel Zayn wrapped around his waist. Zayn’s grin grows as their noses touch, and their bodies push up against each other until Liam can no longer tell where he starts and where Zayn ends.

Earlier, Zayn’s breath had tasted like strong alcohol. Now, there is a strong mint taste and it would be gross with chocolate if Liam cared. But he can’t seem to when Zayn’s lips are finally against his, with a nosy tongue trying to pry them apart. He can’t care when Zayn’s thumb is slipping over his Adam’s Apple and his other hand is slipping over his abdomen to push Liam firmly into his bedroom door.

A moan escapes Liam’s throat before he can stop it, and he knows Zayn likes it. Not just because he can actually feel the pulse of arousal going through him, but because his hips jerk up against his own suddenly. His hips are a hard touch against his own, contrasting with how gentle the tips of his fingers are.

Liam hands glide over Zayn’s slippery back as he works his hips forward. It feels as if a handful of mouths are against his skin, but he follows the path of Zayn’s as his teeth drag into the side of his neck.

It is overwhelming, the feeling rushing through his body. A feeling he can't explain, a feeling of just _so much._

Teeth grip at his bottom lip as fingers grip at his sweatpants, sliding them down until his bare bum presses against the bathroom wall and the door knob of the bedroom door digs into his waist. There is a rhythm of heavy breaths and soft moans between them, the same rhythm that pulses through his veins.

“Can I touch you?” Zayn huffs out as he presses their foreheads back together. Liam responds by slipping his fingers through Zayn’s wet hair and pulling him back in for a kiss because he doesn’t trust his voice to not sound desperate.

He can feel every touch Zayn feels, can feel how close Zayn is before he even moves the hand wrapped around the two of them. It mixes with his own pleasure, enhances it, and Liam legs are trembling with an approaching orgasm with the first tug of his hand.

Zayn presses him impossibly closer into the wall as they come, his teeth digging into Liam’s lips as his mouth parts over his own moan. It sounds almost as wrecked as Liam feels.

“Whoa,” Liam breathes. He rests his head against the wall as his body heaves with exertion. The air is impossibly hotter, and thick with the contentment settling in his chest. Zayn pumps his hand over a few times, milking out his orgasm before rolling his palm over the tip of his sensitive prick.

Zayn's sticky hand grips his chin to pull their lips in line. His eyes are as intense as always as he licks his coat thumb.

“Fuck,” Liam whispers, trembling and fingers digging into Zayn to hold himself up. “Do you always do things so intensely?”

“Just the things that matter,” Zayn whispers back before pressing the thumb between Liam’s lips. He feels like he is exploding into a million tiny heart eye emojis. “This probably isn't as low carb as the cake.”

Liam barks out another laugh as he finds the strength to curl his arms around Zayn’s shoulders to pull him close.

“I don't know,” he says, nudging a kiss to Zayn’s lips. “Are there carbs in come?”

Zayn giggles before he nips at Liam’s bottom lip. It is a pleasant sound, completely unfitting and Liam is suddenly hit with the need to see under every layer Zayn has put up.

And to discover why he did.

“Come on,” Liam says though he doesn't move. It feels as if his body is never going to calm. “I need some high calorie food after five orgasms.”

Zayn turns Liam until Liam’s back is against his chest and he bites more kissing across his back. “Order pizza there and I will make some here. Too late to order.”

Liam warms over as he sinks into Zayn’s touch. He can't find the words to explain the way Zayn makes his heart do the thing. His fingers are gentle against his skin, almost as gentle as the drop in his voice.

“And tell me all about this thing your heart does when you’re around me. Don't think I forgot that you said that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Please let me know what you think? My tumblr is [ exqueenday](http://exyqueenday.tumblr.com) if you need it! <3 <3 Thank you for reading.


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